


Share My Broken Heart

by chaoticxlovers



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Baby BatJokes, Batjokes, Bruce is trying to figure shit out though, Hurt/Comfort, Jeremiah is still gonna turn evil, M/M, There will be smut in later chapters, and he's also a legal adult so don't come at me, but it'll take longer, he's a confused puppy, idk how to tag for shit sorry, so im giving you all this, we deserved more cute scenes with them together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14402163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticxlovers/pseuds/chaoticxlovers
Summary: Bruce offers Jeremiah his home as a way to get back on his feet after his brother's death,  but living with the man brings new emotions to the surface that neither of them can deny. What will happen when Bruce discovers the truth about Jeremiah,  though? Will they stay lovers,  or become enemies?-A different ending of 4x18-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a fic in forever so uhh sorry if this is shit? I've just been really inspired as of late since there's barely any fics of these two so I've just been writing my own.

"Are you alright?" Bruce asked hesitantly, gazing up at the man before him. The wind blows through Jeremiah's short hair as he looks down, forcing a smile onto his face.

"I'll be fine." He replied, but Bruce can see right through the lie, and he takes a moment to decide how to handle the situation. Jeremiah lost his brother. They weren't close, but they were flesh and blood. It's like losing a part of you, even if that part is bad, it still hurts.

"Will you be fine alone?" He asked slowly, hoping the question doesn't scare Jeremiah off. The man shrugs, letting out a heavy sigh. 

"I don't know. I'll have Ecco, I guess. But losing Jerome..." His voice breaks when he says the name, and Bruce catches a flash of guilt pass over Jeremiah's face, but it's gone right away, and Bruce wonders if it was even there in the first place. 

"My whole life, I prepared for him to come back. I isolated myself, kept myself away from potential danger, and now that the threat is gone I... Don't know what to do anymore. And I hate to admit it, but in some sick, weird way, I kind of miss him. He was my brother, you know? There's so much I should've said..." And there's the guilt again. Bruce sees it clearly this time, and he ponders over why Jeremiah feels this particular emotion in the wake of his brother's death.

"Don't feel sorry. Nothing you could've said or done would be enough to pull him back from insanity. He was already too far gone." Bruce reminds the man gently, reaching his hand out to squeeze the redhead's forearm.

Jeremiah flinched slightly at the contact, and Bruce immediately retracted his hand, shuffling awkwardly in place. He's about to apologize, but the man starts to talk again before he can.

"I know. But there's still a voice inside my head saying 'what if?' what if I could've saved him? What if he didnt have to die? And I know it's dumb, and I know it's not true, but I also know that some part of me will always feel this way." Jeremiah states calmly, staring at Bruce with a closed off expression. Bruce doesn't like that look.

"It's alright to feel that way, I do too, but we can't blame ourselves for his death, or for his insanity-" Jeremiah flinches at that, and it catches Bruce off guard for a moment, but he continues. "We can't prevent the inevitable from happening. And Jerome's death was inevitable. "

Jeremiah nods, eyes downcast. Bruce takes the moment to study the man, the short red hair blowing in the wind, glasses foggy from the cold air, and his tense shoulders... He's beautiful but sad.

"Stay at the manor, " Bruce says after a while, and Jeremiah's head snaps up, eyes wide in disbelief. "I don't want you to feel like you're alone in this, and I think a change of environment would benefit you greatly- at least for a short time. "

After the initial shock wears off, Jeremiah looks like he's actually considering it, mulling the request over in his head. Eventually, he meets Bruce's eyes, and gives a short nod.

"I'll pack my stuff, and will be there by tomorrow afternoon, if that's alright with you." Jeremiah said, straightening his posture, and holding his head high. More professional. Closed off again.

Bruce sighs, giving the man a soft smile. "That's fine with me. I'll tell Alfred you'll be staying with us." He replied, and Jeremiah nods, smiling back. It's a sad smile.

Bruce steps closer to the man, slowly, so he doesn't scare Jeremiah away. The redhead tenses, but doesn't flee. Bruce gives him a reassuring smile, and pulls him in for a hug, arms wrapping around the taller man's shoulders.

Jeremiah lets out a surprised gasp at the contact, but slowly relaxes into the hug, eventually wrapping his arms around Bruce's smaller frame and closing his eyes.

It lasts longer than necessary, but neither of them mind. Jeremiah is the first to pull away though, clearing his throat before he speaks.

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight." It seems rushed, and Bruce frowns slightly as Jeremiah turns around quickly and begins to walk away.

Bruce stares after him, watching as the hunched form retreats into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this! Should I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah moves in to Wayne manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised at what a postive response I got with the last chapter, so I tried to make this one a bit longer. Enjoy!

It's 10am, and Bruce is still asleep, snoring softly underneath the comforter. He's having a wonderful dream, but is rudely awaken from it when he feels someone shaking his shoulders. 

"Master Bruce! Get up now, come on, you've slept in late enough." He hears Alfred say, and recognizes the annoyed tone in his voice. 

He groans, cracking an eye open to check the time. Had it really been that long? He's not that surprised, though, he stayed up late looking at old files he had found in the library, and hadn't noticed how quickly the time had passed. 

"I made pancakes for breakfast, be down in half an hour or I'm eating them myself." Alfred said, giving Bruce a warning look, but there's amusement in his gaze. After he leaves the room, Bruce gets ready. 

He tries to dress himself more fashionably for the day since Jeremiah would be coming to stay. He tells himself that he's not doing it because he's trying to impress the man, but it's just to look more professional for his guest. 

After he's finished, he heads downstairs, eating his breakfast slowly as he thinks. If Jeremiah was coming to stay, they'd have time to talk more about Jerome, or perhaps their shared interests. The real question is, will Jeremiah want to talk about any of that stuff? 

He's still grieving, so maybe it'd be best to give the man some space. Bruce lets out a frustrated sigh, wondering how he could approach Jeremiah without seeming too annoying and pushy. 

"Thinking about the bloke from yesterday, master Bruce?" Alfred's voice snaps him out of that train of thought, and his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being caught. He swore the man could read minds sometimes. 

"Y-Yes, did you prepare one of the guest rooms for him? Clean it out nice?" Bruce asked, hoping he didn't look as flustered as he felt. 

"Indeed I did. He has the room across from yours. Can't wait to meet the fellow." The Butler responded with a wink. "You talked about him quite a lot last night. "

Bruce glared at the man, shoving a forkful of pancake in his mouth so he didn't have to answer right away. He forgets how easily Alfred can read people, and it makes him wonder if the man is right. Were his feelings for Jeremiah really some kind of attraction? He shoves the thought to the back of his mind and swallows his food. 

"It's not like that." He muttered, avoiding Alfred's eyes as he gets up to put his dishes in the sink. "I'll be in the library. Tell me when Jeremiah gets here." He doesn't wait for Alfred to respond, walking away as quickly as he can without trying to seem like he's running away. 

 

_________________

 

After reading through a couple of books, glancing at the clock every few minutes and willing time to go by faster, he grows tired. His eyes droop, and the book slides from his hands and into his lap as he falls into a peaceful slumber. 

An hour passes by, and he doesn't awaken till someone taps him on the shoulder, then shakes gently when he still doesn't wake up. His eyes fly open, book falling from his lap as he jumps up, accidentally bumping into the person leaning over him. They crash to the ground, Bruce sprawled out on top of-

Oh no. This cannot be happening. 

Bruce is face to face with Jeremiah Valeska. They're inches apart, Bruce hovering over the man. As they stare at each other, Bruce wonders just how long this could go on. He almost wants to find out, but his limbs start to tremble as he tries to hold himself up, and soon enough he falls on top of the man. 

His eyes glance to Jeremiah's lips, then back up. The boy feels the redhead's hand on his hip, tugging slightly to pull them closer together, which seems impossible since they're already pressed so close together. Bruce's breath hitched, a flare of arousal burning in his gut. 

And then he's being pushed off, falling onto the floor. He's confused for a moment- did he just get rejected?- but then he looks up, eyes meeting... 

Alfred's. 

 

He immediately stands, a crimson blush spreading over his cheeks at being caught doing... What? What was about to happen? Were they going to kiss? He glanced over at Jeremiah, but the man is looking at Alfred, face closed off and unreadable. 

"So, master Bruce, why don't you show our guest to his bedroom?" Alfred said, giving the boy a knowing look. Bruce cleared his throat, nodding vigorously. 

"Yes of course," he said. "Jeremiah, please follow me." Bruce leads the man down the hallway, nervously looking over every once and a while. The redhead seemed tense, too professional for Bruce's liking. 

"This is it," he said when they reach the room. "Mine is right across from it, so if you need anything just knock." Bruce gave the man a shy smile, forcing another blush down. 

"I know things must be hard for you right now, but just know that I'm here for you. I've lost people before. It's a terrible thing, and no one should have to go through it alone." He adds, patting the redhead's shoulder reassuringly. 

Jeremiah meets his eyes, giving him a small smile. "Thank you, for everything." He said, then turns around, dragging his suitcase into the room and closing the door behind him. 

Bruce stares at it, letting out a heavy sigh. Jeremiah was hard to read, and it made it harder for Bruce to know how to act in front of him. Was he annoying to the man? He rubs a hand down his face, going back to the library to study. If Jeremiah needed to talk, he'd be there. 

 

__________________

Bruce doesn't see Jeremiah till the evening, when Alfred calls everyone into the kitchen to eat. He would've been satisifed with just pizza for tonight, but Alfred had gone all out to impress the guest. 

"I hope you like lobster, Mr. Valeska." Alfred said with a bright smile on his face, lifting the cover on the pot to reveal three giant cooked lobsters inside. 

Jeremiah laughs shyly and nods, and Bruce watches the man with a smile. It's nice to see him loosen up and enjoy himself, maybe all he needed was some time by himself. 

Alfred pulls the lobsters out one by one with a pair of tongs, setting each onto the polished white plates aligned on the table, a red tablecloth underneath. Bruce sits down next to Jeremiah, glancing at the man and catching a confused look on his face. He sees the redhead studying the lobster, unsure of what to do. 

Bruce chuckled, causing Jeremiah to look up, giving the boy a sheepish smile. "Here, watch me." Bruce said. "First, you crack open the shell, then you scoop the meat out with a spoon. " He instructed, doing it himself as he talks. 

Jeremiah watched intensely, brow furrowed in concentration as he copies Bruce, smiling when he succeeds. The boy laughed, taking a bite of his own lobster and glancing at Alfred, whom he had forgot was even there. 

The Butler grins at him, glancing between the two boys and raising an eyebrow. Bruce nearly chokes on his lobster, glaring at the man across the table then looking down at his plate in embarrassment. 

After dinner is finished, Bruce follows Jeremiah down the hallway leading to their rooms. He stops the man before he can open the door to his bedroom, offering him a small grin. 

"Would you like to play some pool? There's a table in the basement." He asked, nervously looking away from the redhead in fear that he'd be rejected. 

"Sure," the man replied. "I'd love that." Bruce looked back up at Jeremiah, smile widening as he leads the redhead farther down the hallway, stopping at a door near the end and pushing it open. 

"It's a bit dusty since no one ever uses it anymore..." Bruce said. "But it'll do." He hands Jeremiah a cue stick as he sets up the pool balls, dusting them off a bit first. 

After everything is finished, he stares at the table, mind blank. Had it really been this long since he had played? All he can remember is how to set things up, but nothing beyond that. 

Jeremiah catches his confused look, and smiles slightly. "I can show you how to play," he said. "Me and Ecco like to do it sometimes, she's actually really good." Bruce nods, laughing softly. 

"It's been a while... Last time I played was with my dad, and that was a long time ago." Bruce said quietly, running a finger over the edge of the table, dust gathering on his skin. He wipes it off on his pants, looking back up at Jeremiah. 

The redhead nods in understanding, offering a sympathetic look as he comes to stand beside the boy. "Okay, so you position yourself like this," he demonstrates as he speaks, glancing at the younger man to make sure he's listening. "Then aim the tip of the stick in the direction you want the ball to go and... Take the shot." 

Jeremiah hits the cue ball into the middle of the set balls, which scatter at the impact. He makes three into the pockets, leaving twelve left. 

"Now I get to pick which I want. I'll take solid, and you can take stripes, if that's alright with you?" He asked, glancing up at Bruce. The boy nods in response, eager to try for himself. 

"Now you go." Jeremiah said, moving out of the way to allow the younger man to play. Bruce tries his best to copy what the redhead had done, but fails, unable to figure out how to position himself or hold the stick. 

"Here, let me help." Jeremiah said, already walking over before Bruce can respond. He stands behind the boy, looking over his shoulder to get a better view of the table. 

"Now, spread your legs a bit and lean over slightly. " He said, parting Bruce's legs with his knee and pushing him gently down with the hand on his back. Bruce's heart pounds at the contact, and just how close the other man is to him, with his torso pressed against the brunette's back and his hot breath puffing against his cheek. 

"Then move one hand like this..." Jeremiah placed his hand over Bruce's, sliding it to the correct end of the stick. "And the other like this." He does the same with the boy's other hand, pushing his index finger to the top of the stick and his thumb to the bottom. 

Bruce swallowed thickly, body tensing as Jeremiah presses closer to adjust the boy's hands and fingers, one hand resting on his hip. His breathing picks up, and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. He bites his lip to suppress a moan, resisting the urge to press back against the redhead. 

Jeremiah paused, noticing Bruce's strange behaviour. They both freeze, the room eerily quiet except for the sound of their harsh breathing. Jeremiah is the first to move, hand sliding up Bruce's arm slowly, while the other one turns the boy around, squeezing his hip. 

The brunette looked up at Jeremiah, face stricken with fear and excitement. He'd never thought of another man this way, and he was confused as to why he did now. He pushed those thoughts away though, opening himself up to these new, strange feelings instead. 

Jeremiah leaned in, capturing the boy's lips with his own. Bruce is still at first, but then starts to respond, moving slowly against the older man. He closed his eyes, arms coming up to wrap around Jeremiah's shoulders as he deepens the kiss. 

Bruce can feel Jeremiah grin against his lips, and he pulls away to catch his breath. He gulps in the air eagerly, eyes never leaving the redhead's. They study each other quietly for a moment, Jeremiah taking in the lust filled gaze, bruised lips, and flushed face of the brunette before him, and Bruce... Is still unable to read the man pressed against him.  
He can see that he's aroused though, and that he enjoys this, so Bruce kisses him again, harder than before. 

Jeremiah groaned, surprised at the fierce attitude of the smaller man. He quickly recovers though, lifting Bruce by the waist and hauling him on top of the table, sliding between his legs. The boy pulls him closer, fingers sliding through the orange locks of hair and tugging gently. 

Jeremiah moans at the slight sting of pain mixed with his arousal, kissing Bruce more aggressively than before. The boy begins to panic, scared at the change of nature in the man. He pushed Jeremiah off him, breathing heavily as he regained his breath, mind foggy from arousal and fear. 

The redhead gives him a confused look, taking a step closer to the boy. Bruce shakes his head and holds up his hand as a sign to stop. "I-I'm sorry, I panicked. Things were going so fast and I'm not sure I'm ready for... That, yet." He said quietly, hopping down from the table and avoiding Jeremiah's eyes. 

"That's alright," The man said. "I don't want to rush things either. I'm sorry I got carried away." Bruce looked up, studying Jeremiah. The redhead was tense, face closed off and giving away nothing. There was little to no emotion in his gaze, as if he wasn't just about to fuck the boy across a pool table. The only sign he had been doing anything were his swollen lips and messed up hair. That, and the quickly fading erection. 

Bruce looked away, deciding to keep his distance from the man for the time being. He cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face as he glanced back at the table. 

"Well, maybe we can continue this some other time- the pool game, that is. " He said in a rush, heat spreading down from his cheeks to his neck. "I'll see you around, okay? Goodnight."

Bruce walked past the man with his head down, eyes focused on the carpet beneath his feet. Jeremiah snatched his wrist before he can run away though, craning his neck to look at the boy. 

Bruce swallows, willing himself to relax. "Goodnight, Bruce." Jeremiah said, then gives the boy a quick peck on the lips. "I'm going to study in the library before heading to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bruce nods, following Jeremiah out of the basement and waving him goodbye as they separate in the hallway, Bruce heading towards his room. 

He lets outs a deep breath as he closes the door behind him, squeezing his eyes shut as the events of what just happened finally settle in, a wave of nausea accompanying them. The brunette groans, hitting his forehead (not too harshly) against his door. 

"What an I supposed to do now?" He asks himself in the quiet of his room, letting out a heavy sigh as he drags himself into the bed, sleep taking over as soon as his head hits the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter- leave your thoughts below!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah and Bruce have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There's a bit of smut, but no sex.

Weeks pass by, and Bruce takes the time to think about his relationship with Jeremiah. What were they? Jeremiah said he wanted to take things slow, but where was this headed in the first place? Boyfriends didn't sound right, but maybe that was just because he wasn't used to being with a man.

He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. Although the space Bruce had put between him and Jeremiah has given him time to think, it's been painful as well. Bruce wasn't the only one spending time by myself though, Jeremiah seemed to be avoiding him too. They made small talk over meals, but besides that it had been awkward, none of them daring to say a word after the incident in the basement. 

Alfred seemed to notice the change of behaviour as well, and Bruce was almost postive he was going to get a mouthful from the man this week if it continued. 

Bruce groaned, burying his face in his pillow. It was too early to be thinking about these things. He closes his eyes, planning on getting a few more minutes of sleep before Alfred forces him to get up. 

Of course that doesn't happen though, because luck just doesn't seem to be on his side this month at all. There's a knock at his door, and he lets out a sigh, reluctantly dragging himself out of bed. He doesn't bother to put on his clothes or to fix his hair, expecting it to be Alfred. And although Alfred might not approve, Bruce didn't really give a shit. 

"Can't I just get a few more minutes of sleep..." Bruce groaned, opening the door with a yawn. Jeremiah stands there, an amused grin on his face. 

"Not who you were expecting?" The redhead asked, looking over the boy's half-dressed body. The younger man has only his boxer shorts on, and is now slowly regretting the decision to not get dressed before answering the door. 

He shook his head, opening the door wider for Jeremiah to come in. "Yeah, sorry, Alfred usually wakes me up when I sleep in this late..." Bruce said, stepping out of the way as the older man makes his way inside the room, and closes the door behind him. He throws on a t-shirt when the redhead's back is turned, not bothering with pants. 

"Is there something you want to talk about?" He asked, and Jeremiah turns to look at him, a flash of disappointment showing in his eyes as he notices Bruce has partly covered up. 

"Yes, there is." Jeremiah said, taking a hesitant step closer to the boy. "I was wondering if it would be alright if Ecco came to visit today, and maybe stay for the night. I haven't seen her in a while, and she gets lonely..." He trails off, giving Bruce a hopeful look. 

Bruce offered the man a smile, swallowing down the strange feeling that starts to burn inside his gut at the mention of the woman. "That would be amazing, yes. What time will she be arriving?" He asked, crossing his arms over the too-large t-shirt that hangs loosely from his small body. 

"Around 3pm, probably. Thank you." Jeremiah said, leaning in to press a sweet, soft kiss against the boy's lips. Bruce slowly kissed back, a bit shocked at the man's forward behavior. They'd been avoiding each other for days, so maybe he's just as desperate as Bruce is at this point. 

Bruce wrapped his arms around the older man's shoulders, standing slightly on the tip of his toes to make it easier to reach the redhead. He sighed softly into the kiss, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling and taste of the other man pressed against him, mouths moving slowly together. 

Jeremiah rests his hands gently on Bruce's hips, pushing the boy back against the wall, which caused the younger man to yelp in surprise, giving the redhead the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside the brunette's mouth. 

Bruce presses against Jeremiah, grinding his hips against the older man's clothed crotch. The action draws out a wanton moan from the man, who kisses the boy harder in reply, nipping at his bottom lip. 

He can feel Jeremiah's hand slide up his shirt, rubbing down his chest and stomach slowly before coming to a stop over the front of his boxers. Bruce is a mess by now, blunt nails scraping over the older man's shirt as he lets out a breathy moan at the contact, hips jerking into it. 

"Yes," the boy hissed. "Fuck yes, please." Jeremiah growled at the brunette's filthy language, pinning the younger man's wrists against the wall with one hand as he squeezed Bruce's clothed member gently with the other. 

And then there's a knock. 

Jeremiah puts a hand over the boy's mouth, lowering him gently onto the floor. Bruce's eyes are wide, fright and shock evident on his face, but he quickly recovers, pushing Jeremiah inside his closet and throwing on a pair of sweatpants quickly. 

He took a deep breath, checking himself over in the mirror before answering the door. Alfred looked at Bruce, then behind him, suspiciously eyeing the room. 

"Alfred, good morning!" Bruce said, plastering a bright smile onto his face as he feigns innocence and oblivion. Alfred slowly moved his eyes back to the boy, giving him an amused look. 

"Mornin', Master Bruce. You've been making a lot of noise up here all by yourself. Is it possible that someone else is in here with you? Perhaps a tall man with red hair? Glasses?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

Bruce gulped, shaking his head. "H-he was before, but not now, no. Jeremiah just wanted to know if he could bring over a friend today. I said it was alright." He said, smoothly changing the subject. 

Alfred nodded, looking behind Bruce one last time before giving up with a sigh. "Well, alright then. I'll set out another plate for dinner tonight. I won't be home till late afternoon, though. Important errands to run. There's cereal in the kitchen if you're hungry, " he said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't want you to do. And Bruce... " Alfred reached a hand out, placing it on the boy's stiff shoulder and giving it a small squeeze. "Be safe, alright?" 

Bruce suppressed a groan, nodding and looking away from the man. "I'll be fine, Alfred. It's just for the afternoon, not the whole week. I'll see you later, goodbye." He shooed the Butler away, closing the door behind him. Bruce looked over to the closet, which opens up to reveal a very disheveled Jeremiah, clothes and hair a mess. 

"I am so sorry, I completely forgot about Alfred. " Bruce said, scrambling over to the older man and giving him an apologetic look. The redhead glanced down at him, that closed off expression now back on his face. Just the sight of it makes Bruce grit his teeth together in annoyance and frustration. 

"It's fine, I was just about to leave anyways." Jeremiah said, voice even and controlled, almost robot-like. The older man starts to walk away, and Bruce panics, grabbing his hand before he can open the door. 

"Stay," he said. "It's still way too early... Why don't we try to get some sleep? Together?" Bruce looked up at the man with a newfound confidence, refusing to run away from the seemingly emotionless man. No matter how much it scared him. 

A hint of surprise shows in the redhead's eyes, and he seems to think over Bruce's offer with care before nodding. "Alright." He said, pulling Bruce to the bed and laying down. 

The younger man awkwardly lays beside him, their hands still clasped together. Bruce tilts his head to look at the redhead, noticing that the tension seems to have left his body, but his face is still guarded from emotion. The brunette sighed in frustration, then immediately regretted it when Jeremiah's head snapped towards him at the sound. 

"What is it?" He asked, looking at Bruce curiously. The younger man squirmed under the gaze, glancing away from the redhead. He considers lying to the man, but then decides against it. It's better to get it over with now instead of letting the tension build up until one of them snaps. 

"You..." He looked back at Jeremiah, meeting that cold, hard stare with confidence. "You seem so closed off. I can't read you, and it bothers me." Bruce admits, rubbing his thumb over the redhead's knuckles and looking down at their joined hands. 

"Maybe I don't want you to see how I feel, or who I really am." Jeremiah replied quietly. "Maybe you're not ready for that yet." Bruce looked up at the man slowly, finally catching a glimpse of something in the redhead's eyes. But it's not something Bruce expected to be there. 

It's malice. It's possessive. It's evil. And it scares the shit out of Bruce. 

"You don't know what I'm ready for," he snapped, sitting up. "I don't appreciate you lying to me- I'm not a child, Jeremiah." As much as Bruce insisted the man tell the truth, he was terrified of it. Does he really want to know who the real Jeremiah is? That there could be something evil brewing inside the man who seemed so innocent and kind? The man who laughed with him? Who cared for him? 

The older man gave Bruce a calculated stare, gently tugging him back to his side. The brunette struggles against him, attempting to push the redhead away, but Jeremiah shushed him gently, pulling the struggling boy to his chest and tightening his grip so he can't escape. 

"You're not ready yet, and neither am I. I'm just trying to protect you," the redhead murmured, cradling Bruce's head and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of it. "One day you'll know, though. And when you do, it will be your choice whether to stay by my side or not." 

Bruce sighed, giving the man an upset look. "I don't understand..." He said quietly, eyes pleading with the redhead. Pleading for the truth, for understanding, for something that he's not even sure he wants to know. He closed them, cutting off the moment before he can let it come back to haunt him in the future. A sudden wave of exhaustion crashed over him, and he leaned his forehead against Jeremiah's chest, yawning softly. 

"You don't need to," the redhead whispered, lips brushing against his ear. "Go to sleep. I'm here now, and that's all that matters." Bruce's tired mind seemed to agree, and he wrapped himself around the older man, letting the open arms of sleep take hold of him, dragging him into a slumber where he can forget all his worries. They won't be forgotten forever, though, he knows. And he'll have to confront them in the future. 

But for now, he rests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit short but I wanted Ecco's visit to be it's own chapter since it's gonna be longer than the others. 
> 
> As always, leave your thoughts below!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker's beginning.

Jeremiah lays next to the sleeping boy for the rest of the morning, combing his fingers through Bruce's soft brown locks. He looked down at the younger man, admiring the calm, peaceful look on his face. He looked much happier when he was asleep, all the worry and sadness etched off of his features. 

The redhead watched for a few more minutes before slowly getting up, careful not to awaken the sleeping boy. He walked into the bathroom attached to Bruce's bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes in the mirror. 

He washed his hands, splashing some of the cold water onto his face to help himself wake up. "Do you really think you two will work out?" He freezes at the voice, a cold spike of fear shooting up his spine. 

Jeremiah slowly lifted his head, coming face to face with his brother. His dead brother. 

"You're not real," he hissed. "You're gone! Dead! Leave me alone!" Jerome laughed manically, shaking his head in amusement.  
"I'll always live on. You'll never get rid of me, brother. You are me! It's just a matter of time before your sanity is completely gone, like mine." 

Jeremiah squeezed his eyes shut, willing the man to go away, but he can hear that obnoxious laughter floating through the room and piercing his ears. Anger boils inside of him, and he snaps, hitting the mirror with his fist. 

He hissed in pain as shards of the glass cut into his skin, blood dripping down his knuckles. That doesn't matter to him, though, what matters is that Jerome is gone. The vision of him smashed away with the mirror. 

"You can never escape me." A voice whispered in the back of his mind, and although the vision of the man has disappeared, Jeremiah didn't think the voice was going to. He screams in frustration and rage, pressing his hands to his ears to try and block out the noise. But he can't, it's inside of him, growing louder. "You ruined me! My life! You took everything away, and now, now I'm driving you mad. And you can't escape it." 

He claws at his scalp, glasses sliding off his face as his back hits the wall, body sliding down till he's curled up into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth as his screams turn into sobs. 

Then there's a different voice, a softer one, calling out his name. And arms, pulling him into a tight embrace. He lets himself be cradled, crying into the younger man's shirt. He was so sure he'd escaped Jerome, so sure that once the man was dead he'd finally be free. He should've known better. Whatever the twin had put in that gas messed with his mind and emotions, it brought out the darkness he had tried so hard to hide. 

And he accepted the darkness. He still does. But to have the dead man's conscious inside of him, slowly becoming a part of him, was not what he wanted. And he knows he won't be able to fight Jerome forever, that the man would win, like he always does. Even in death, he had found a way to destroy Jeremiah. Had gotten away with his plan. 

The redhead sighed, sobs dying down into sniffles. He opened his eyes, looking straight up at a very concerned Bruce Wayne. Although his glasses weren't on, he's still able to see that the boy seemed lost, unsure of what to do in the situation. 

Jeremiah gave him a weary smile, pulling away from the hug and using the wall as a crutch to stand up. Bruce rose with him, sliding the round glasses back onto his face. And the redhead sees it clearly now, sees the worry etched into the younger man's face. 

It almost makes him feel ashamed, being caught in such an emotional state. But it was Jerome's fault, not his. Although the dead man's voice had died down to just a small whisper in the back of his mind, it still makes his stomach twist with anxiety and guilt. 

"Are you okay? What happened?" Bruce asked, noticing the shards of glass sticking out of Jeremiah's skin, blood dripping down his fingertips and falling to the floor. The boy quickly got the first aid kit out from the compartment behind the broken mirror, using tweezers to pick out the pieces from his hand. 

Jeremiah stays silent throughout the process, thinking about what exactly he should tell the younger man. He can't tell him the truth, that would just cause him to worry more. Maybe some sappy story about how he's grieving the loss of his dead brother will do... Or perhaps he would just not say anything at all. 

Bruce washed the blood from his knuckles, causing the redhead to hiss in pain as the cold water poured over his open wounds. The younger man gave him an apologetic look, turning the faucet off and gently dabbing the excess water away from his hand before bandaging it up. 

"Are you okay?" He asked for the second time, the same concerned expression still on his face. Jeremiah lifted his bandaged knuckles to the boy's cheek, brushing them softly against the skin. 

Bruce closed eyes at the gentle, sweet caress, reaching his hand up to hold Jeremiah's against him, gripping the man's wrist. Not too tightly, though, just enough to keep him from pulling the limb away. 

The boy tilted his head to the side, pressing a small kiss to the covered wounds. Jeremiah watched intently, a bit surprised at the action. Blood was starting to seep through the bandages, but the brunette didn't seem to care much about that. Jeremiah snatched his hand back, feeling overcome with emotion. Under all the guilt, sadness, and frustration, there was a flourishing feeling in his gut. It was happiness and... Maybe even love. He refused to believe it was, though. 

"I'm okay," he said, voice quiet and tense. "It was just... A small breakdown." Jeremiah hung his head, staring down at his bandaged hand. He feels a laugh bubble up inside of him at the sight of the blood, could hear Jerome's laughter echoing inside his head with him. He forced the sound down though, masking his face carefully before looking back up at Bruce. 

The boy is frowning, eyebrows drawn together in worry and concern. "Will you be alright?" He asked, and Jeremiah nodded in response, glancing up at the bloody, broken mirror. Shards of glass were littered in the sink, some of them had scattered to the floor as well. 

"I'm sorry about your mirror..." The redhead said, giving Bruce an apologetic look. "I'll buy you a new one." The younger man shook his head, waving a hand in dismissal. "It's fine, I'll pay for it myself." 

A silence falls over them, both of the men leaning against the wall, shoulders brushing together at just the slightest movement. Bruce turned to him, placing a shy kiss on his cheek. The redhead smiled, turning his head so that the kiss was now planted on his lips. 

It's slow, and gentle, unlike how their previous kisses had been. Bruce's lips slid against the older man's, a small sigh escaping them. The redhead grinned into the kiss, reaching his bandaged hand up to brush his fingers through the boy's short hair. 

Bruce pulled back after a while, tilting his head to the side, as if listening for something. The older man stared at him in confusion, but then he hears it. There's footsteps, echoing throughout the manor and getting closer by the second. 

Jeremiah went back through the boy's bedroom to the door, turning the knob slowly and pulling it open. He felt Bruce behind him, trying to peak over his shoulder. The redhead glanced at him, giving him a nod to signify that the hallway was safe. 

The two men walked towards the sound of the footsteps, down the hallway, all the way to the dining room. A woman stands there, back turned. She's holding up an antique from a shelf, admiring it and blowing off the dust that coats the shiny bronze underneath. 

As she turned, Jeremiah has a full view of who she is. Ecco. A relieved sigh escaped his lips, and he quickly walks over to the woman, pulling her in for a tight hug after she sets the antique back down. She's always been supportive of him- protective, even. He closed his eyes and savors the smell and feeling of her, familiar and comforting. 

_________________

Bruce watched Jeremiah rush over to the woman, pulling her in for a tight hug. She looked a bit shocked at first, but then she embraced the man, smiling against his shoulder. A hot, bubbling feeling boils inside of Bruce at the sight, and he clears throat as a sign to show that 'yes hello I'm still here.'

He watched them awkwardly break the hug, Jeremiah glancing at Bruce and offering him a bright, happy smile, before turning back to Ecco. Did he really like her that much? He wondered, shocked at the joy present on Jeremiah's face just at the sight of the woman. It was more emotion than what Bruce had seen in the past month from the man. 

"How are you, Ecco? It's been too long since I last saw you. I missed you. " Jeremiah said, breaking Bruce out of his stupor. He watched the redhead's hand, gripping the woman's shoulder gently and giving it a small rub. The brunette rolled his eyes, scoffing at the scene.

He wasn't jealous, per se, but he wasn't very happy with the way they were so familiar with one another, and didn't shy away from such intimate touches. He wondered, absentmindedly, if they had been in a relationship before. Or if they still were in one. 

Ecco is quiet, giving Jeremiah a small smile. No wonder they're so close to one another... Both are very similar. Quiet and reserved, yet comfortable around one another. She is loyal to him, even after Jerome's death. Jeremiah could've gotten rid of her, but he didn't. She stayed, because he likes her. Trusts her. 

"Will you be joining us for dinner, then?" Bruce asked, folding his hands behind his back and standing up as tall as possible. It was a display of dominance, a warning sign to the woman. And she seems to have caught it, her smile turning into a frown and anger flashing in her eyes. 

Jeremiah is oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Youre staying, aren't you Ecco?" He asked, excitement evident in his voice and on his face. It was like seeing a child open their Christmas presents, eager and joyful. 

Ecco turned back to Jeremiah and matched his bright smile with one of her own, nodding her head. "Yes, I'll stay. I'd like to talk to you alone for a moment though, if you don't mind." She said, glancing at Bruce with a deadly glare. He tried not squirm under the intense stare, lifting his chin up to the woman instead. 

"I'll leave you two alone." The boy said, walking out of the room and trying not to look back. They were just friends. He should stop worrying about them being alone together, and yet... He pressed his back up against the wall, hidden from their line of sight, and listens. 

"Does he know, yet?" Ecco asked, voice quiet and secretive. The boy strained to hear better, taking a step closer. "No, he doesn't. He'll find out eventually though. I mean, this morning..." Jeremiah trailed off before continuing. "I saw him. Jerome. He was there, Ecco. Do you- do you think he's still alive?" 

Surely Bruce's ears must not be working right, cause there was no way in hell that's what Jeremiah just said. Jerome? In the bathroom? That's what caused the breakdown? It seemed impossible, yet once he thinks about it more, it started to make sense. Jeremiah was a mess earlier today, terrified and upset. What else could provoke such a reaction from the man, besides the sight of his dead twin? 

"Jay, Jerome is dead, remember? It's probably just the toxin messing with you. You've changed. You're embracing that dark, sexy side of yourself. And I have to say, it was nice of Jerome to help with that bit. I've been trying to convince you to accept it for your whole life." Ecco's words float through the room, like daggers to Bruce's heart. He has to keep a hand over his mouth to stop himself from making any noise, a chill of terror freezing over him. He let out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. 

This isn't what he expected their conversation to be like at all, sure the 'sexy' part annoyed the shit out of him, but Bruce was more angry about how Ecco was encouraging the man to feel this way. To let himself embrace the evil his dead twin had dug up from inside him, buried and kept safe over the years, now free and running rampant around the redhead's mind. 

"I have no problem embracing that side of me, but Jerome... I can't escape him. He talks to me, I see him, what if he just faked his death? I can't risk it, Ecco. I need you by my side, just in case he's really alive." Jeremiah said, voice urgent and frightened. Bruce felt sorry for the man, but his curiosity outweighs the sympathy. How long had Jeremiah been hiding his true colors? It couldn't have just been since Jerome's death, no. This is deeper than that. A seed of terror and evil, planted long ago inside the man, finally beginning to sprout. And Bruce didn't want to know what would happen when it was fully grown. 

Will Jeremiah lose his mind for good? Will his brother take over? Bruce swallowed thickly, nausea and anxiety twisting his stomach into knots. But he stood still, forcing himself to hear what came next. "I'm here for you, Jay. Nothing will happen. I promise." The woman's soft voice answered, sounding so calm and comforting, but Bruce can hear the sinister tone behind it and doesn't believe her for a second. 

He took a deep breath and walked back into the room, offering the pair a smile to mask the anger and fear bottled inside him. Jeremiah stood closer to the woman than before, and the sight caused Bruce's rage to rise only higher, boiling inside his gut. 

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," he said, walking over to the redhead and resting a hand on his shoulder. "Have you two caught up yet, or should I leave again?" He tried to keep the malice out of his tone, but some of it slips through, and Jeremiah gave him a curious look, raising an eyebrow in amusement. 

"No, we're done here. And Bruce..." The man bit his lower lip gently, then licked it, giving Bruce a small smirk before leaning in, lips brushing against the boy's ear. "I'm yours, and you're mine, darling. Don't worry about her."

Heat immediately rose to the brunette's face, but he keeps his calm, smiling at the man. "And also, I was wondering if she could stay the night? If that's alright with you, of course." Jeremiah said, pulling away. 

Bruce gave the man a blank stare, amused and angered at the same time. What kind of game did he think he was playing? Trying to seduce and reassure Bruce about the woman just to get his way? 

"No, I'm sorry. There isn't any room for another person here." He gave Ecco and Jeremiah a fake, apologetic look, knowing the lie wouldn't work, but using it anyways. "Really, Bruce? This is a mansion." The redhead responded, glaring at the boy. 

Bruce sighed, amusement fading away at the angry tone in Jeremiah's voice. He didn't trust the woman here with the man, she was too dangerous. He needed to keep the redhead safe, and protected. Try and figure out what was going on with him. 

"I'm sorry, Jeremiah, but I can't have her stay here without Alfred's permission. Plus, she's a stranger, I just don't know her well enough." Bruce told the man gently, reaching a hand out to pat his shoulder. Jeremiah stepped away before it makes contact, giving Bruce a look that screams anger and disappointment. 

"You let me stay here! Why don't you trust her, huh? Don't you trust me enough to let her stay here?" The redhead stepped back into Bruce's space, toe-to-toe toe and eye-to-eye. The man's pupils are blown wide, and it's almost impossible to tell who stands in front of the boy. This wasn't Jeremiah, this was a stranger consumed by rage, the monster within the man finally breaking free and rearing it's ugly head at Bruce. 

"No, scratch that, how am I supposed to trust you? Are you working with Jerome? Are you trying to kill me?" Jeremiah's voice rose, fists clenching in anger. "Answer me!" He yelled, shocking Bruce and Ecco, who both stare at the man in bewilderment. 

"Jay, calm down, alright? Leave the boy alone." Ecco said, voice wavering as she stepped closer to the unstable man. "Everything... Will be... Alright..." She draws the words out with every step she takes, eventually reaching Jeremiah. 

The redhead whirled around to look at her, and that's when Bruce catches the glint of silver in his hand, arm rising and about to strike the woman. The boy jumped on Jeremiah before he can make his attack, causing them both to crash to the ground. He sees the item the man had intended to use for the attack roll across the floor, and can finally make out what it is. 

It's a pen, with the words 'Wayne Enterprises' scribbled across the front, with the number to the company underneath. Had the man been carrying it around? Perhaps he picked it up off a table in the room, Bruce wasn't sure. His attention drifts from the weapon to the man, who struggled underneath him, pushing the boy off his back. And then there's a hand around his throat, squeezing and cutting off Bruce's air supply. 

The brunnete stared up into Jeremiah's eyes, seeing nothing but pure rage. "Please..." He gasped, fingers attempting to pry the man's hands off him. He sees Ecco behind the redhead's shoulder, watching the two of them fight with a blank expression on her face, not making any move to help. 

An idea popped into Bruce's head, and he surged forward, lips crashing into Jeremiah's. His head spun from the loss of air, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to stay conscious. The grip around his throat loosened slowly, the man above him frozen in pure shock. 

Then Jeremiah responded, lips moving gently against the boy's. A sigh of relief escaped Bruce, and he pushed the redhead off him so he can take in large gulps of air, eyes slowly opening as everything began to clear up, and then Jeremiah is crouched over him, worry carved into his beautiful features. 

"Fuck I didn't mean to do that, I'm so sorry, shit Bruce are you alright?" The man's voice drifted through the boy's cloudy mind, and he takes a moment to process the words, slowly sitting up. 

"I'm fine..." He replied, rubbing gently at his injured throat. There were definitely going to be marks there later on. "Why didn't you help me?! You almost let me kill him!" Bruce looked up at the man, who's now yelling at Ecco, slapping her across the cheek. 

The woman's face and attitude remain calm, and she lets Jeremiah take his anger out on her. She is loyal, after all. Like an obedient dog, receiving a smack on the head for disobeying. 

Bruce stood up quickly, swaying slightly as he regained his footing. He grabbed Jeremiah's wrist before he can smack Ecco again, giving him a stern look as he shook his head. 

"I think you need to leave." He said, turning to the woman. She doesn't look at Bruce, not even sparing him a glance. Her gaze is focused on Jeremiah, body frozen and stiff. She looked like a soldier, awaiting orders from her captain. 

"Go home, Ecco. Please." Jeremiah said quietly, looking away from the woman. Bruce saw her swallow the lump in her throat, keeping her tears at bay as she nodded and walked out of the room, not looking back. 

Jeremiah breaks down, falling to the floor and letting a soft sob escape him. "Leave me alone..." He whispered, and Bruce wondered who he was listening to, or what he sees. He rememberd the conversation from earlier about Jerome, and a concerned frown falls upon his face. 

"I'm here for you, Jeremiah. It's just me, okay?" He murmured, pulling the older man to his chest and wrapping his arms around the redhead's shoulders, holding him close. "Everything will be okay..." He whispered into the man's ear, stroking the strands of hair out of his face. 

"No, it won't be," Jeremiah said, body going rigid and still beneath Bruce's hands. "Because I'm finally free, can't you see?" A laugh spills out into the quiet of the room, and the sound of it sends a chill down Bruce's spine. That laugh was terrifying, and he looked down at the man in his arms, shocked that the sound was coming from him. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just couldn't contain this part of me any longer. I was going to tell you, really, but the look on your face was just priceless!" Jeremiah pulled away from the boy, a wicked smirk on his face. Although his attitude was quite similar to Jerome's, he had a more menacing and calculated stare. And that was even more terrifying for Bruce. 

"This isn't you, Jeremiah..." He pleaded with the man, both of them standing up at the same time. The redhead tilted his head to the side, giving Bruce a sweet smile. "You're cute when you're scared, but the look doesn't suit you." The older man said, placing a quick kiss against the boy's lips, before turning around, walking away. "Come find me when you're ready, I'll be waiting." 

Jeremiah throws a quick grin over his shoulder at the stunned boy, giving him a wink before he leaves the room, hurried footsteps echoing throughout the mansion. Bruce stands there in the dining room, slowly registering what had happened. Jeremiah had finally snapped for good, the boy was sure of it. But what now? Where was the man going, and what were his plans? He was almost sure Echo was in on it, that manipulative bitch. 

There was only one thing that was clear in Bruce's mind, and that was that he needed to tell Alfred and Jim about this right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I absolutely hate this chapter but I hope you guys enjoy it... Leave your thoughts below, I really do appreciate the comments! 
> 
> Next chapter won't be out till after the new episode because I need to see more of Jeremiah's plot before I can continue to write about him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce confronts Jeremiah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I just got caught up with another fic I'm writing and didn't have time for this one.

Bruce waits until Alfred is back before he does anything. He's in shock, body rigid and frozen in place. Was there something he could've done to help Jeremiah? And if so, had he failed at it? Guilt twisted his stomach into knots, making him feel nauseas. 

The man had seemed so fine... But now, it's like he's a completely different person. He went from scared, sad, and helpless, to mad, and dangerous - yet eerily calm at the same time. It terrified Bruce how his personality had switched so quickly. This morning he was doing well, but by evening he had snapped. 

Because of Bruce. 

Or at least that's what the boy chose to believe. But later on, when he explained to Alfred what happened, and how it was his fault, the Butler seemed angry. He grasped the young boy's shoulders firmly, squatting down to come eye level with him. 

Bruce struggled to maintain the eye contact, forcing himself to stay in place and not run away, like he so desperately wanted to. "Bruce, listen to me." Alfred said, voice gentle and concerned. "It's not your fault. None of it is, okay? Do you know where he went?"

The boy wiped at his watering eyes, masking the sadness and guilt consuming him with a confident, small smile. He shook his head and tried to clear his mind so he could think clearly about the situation. 

Jeremiah had left about an hour ago, and Bruce imagined that he had met up with Ecco somehow. His best guess as to where they were had to be the safe house Jeremiah lived in, but if that was the case, Bruce doubted they'd be there long. 

He told Alfred this, and the man huffed in frustration, pulling out his cellphone. So the police would be getting involved, then... Bruce wasn't sure how he felt about that. Jim? Okay. But the whole department? Someone could end up getting hurt. They didn't know who or what they were dealing with. Jeremiah was hard to read, and he would've thought of every possible outcome before going through with whatever he had planned. 

There had to be something Bruce wasn't getting, though... Something he had overlooked. Jeremiah wouldn't get caught that easily, so if they went to the safe house, the man might not even be there. If he was, there could definitely be a trap for whoever dared to come find him. 

"Alfred, tell them to be careful. Jeremiah is not to be underestimated." Bruce said. "And I'm coming with." He glanced away before he could see the look on Alfred's face, refusing to give in to whatever the man was going to try and say to convince him to stay. 

"Sorry, Jim, I've got to go. Be safe." Alfred said, voice stern as he slapped the phone shut, the sound nearly making Bruce flinch. "Master Bruce, I can't allow you to go with. That man is dangerous and unpredictable. It's not safe for you." 

The boy forced down a frustrated groan, eyes flicking back up to face the unwavering, protective and angry look directed at him. He stood his ground though, refusing to back away from what he was so sure was somehow his fault. Maybe he could help Jeremiah, bring him back from the edge. 

'He's already fallen over it, though...' his mind whispers, but he ignores the pain of the truth, holding onto the hope of recovery for the man. There had to be someway he could be saved, Bruce was sure of it. 

"You can't stop me, Alfred. I'm going." He snapped, pushing past the man and walking away, filled with determination and anger. A tight grip on his wrist pulled him back before he could reach the door, and he whipped around to face the man. 

Alfred looked tired, and almost scared... Scared that Bruce really wouldn't make it back this time. That all of the Wayne family would be gone for good, no one left to carry on the legacy. It hurt to see that look, so Bruce turned away, pulling his arm free and opening the door. 

"I'll be back, Alfred. I swear to you." He said, then shut the door quickly before the man could respond. He didn't - no, couldn't, hear what Alfred would have have to say. It just might make him stay, and Bruce had to go. Had to save Jeremiah... Or at least try to. 

So he left, without looking back. 

_______________

Bruce pulled up to Jeremiah's safe house slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible with the vehicle. That didn't seem to matter, though, since it was storming out. Rain poured down from the sky, thunder roaring as he stepped out of the car. The police would be here soon, so he needed to get this done quickly. 

Taking a deep breath, Bruce walked up to the door, pulling it open slowly. The room was dark, and eerily silent, causing suspicion to brew inside the boy. He scanned the room carefully before going down the hallway, peeking behind the different doors as he made his way to the end. 

And then there was a noise, coming from behind him, and he quickly turned towards the sound. There was... A rock? He stared at in confusion, before it dawned on him that this was a distraction. He made a move to turn around, but it was too late. 

A slender arm came to wrap around his throat, putting him in a chokehold. He squirmed, trying to elbow the assailant behind him, but his wrist was caught. He hissed as - what he assumed to be Ecco - bent his arm, pushing up to put strain on the muscle. 

He attempted to move, but failed. Ecco didn't attack, just held him there so he wouldn't escape. She was waiting. For Jeremiah. 

Footsteps echoed in the dim lit hall, making their way slowly towards the pair before stopping in front of them. 

It was him. 

Bruce studied the man, noticing his extremely pale skin, and strange colored eyes. He looked calm and collected, showing no sign of emotion. This only worried Bruce more. 

"Bruce... Not who I was expecting, but I'm not entirely surprised you came." Jeremiah said, taking a step closer. The boy's pulse raced, fear and adrenaline coursing through his body. He couldn't tell if he wanted to punch the man, or kiss him. 

"Listen to me, Jeremiah, you're not thinking straight. Whatever this is- it's exactly what Jerome wanted, can't you see?!" Bruce hissed, voice breaking from frustration and pain. The man in front of him... He was a stranger. All of what Jeremiah was, twisted into some sociopath- or something of the sort. 

"My brother wanted chaos and destruction, I simply want change. Destruction is fun, sure, but it's also stupid. This city needs... A remake. It needs to be torn down, and built into something better." Jeremiah said. "I will have to destroy it to do that, yes. But I have a plan. I'm careful. Jerome was impulsive and naive."

Bruce catches a glimpse of anger in the man's eyes as he hisses out the name of his brother. Before, he'd be sad at just the mention of his twin. But the sadness and guilt were gone, and it made Bruce's heart ache at the loss. Was there really nothing left of the man he used to know? 

"Please... Jeremiah, I know you're in there. Listen to me. You're better than this. You have so much potential, so much to give to this city. Just come with me, and we can do it." He pleads with the man, wanting to reach out, but Ecco holds him in place, grip firm. 

"I appreciate your concern, Bruce. But there's no point in it. I am doing what needs to be done, and you... You've gotten in the way. So I'm going to let you walk out of here, if you agree to leave me alone. But if you refuse, then I'll put a bullet through your head." Jeremiah said, pulling a pistol slowly from his pocket and clicking off the safety. 

There's a clatter from another room, and then a woman, dressed in a bizarre clown outfit appears. One of Jerome's old cult members. "Sir, we have six minutes before the cops get here. We should go." She says, barely paying any attention to the boy. 

Jeremiah rolls his eyes, glaring at the woman. "I know that, I'll be done soon. Round up the others and tell them to wait outside." He said, and the woman scatters away, off to tell God knows how many others that were there. 

"I can't leave you, Jeremiah. I won't." Bruce said firmly, clenching his jaw and giving the man a desperate look. "I... I don't want to lose you." He adds quietly, barely able to keep the grief hidden from his voice. 

Jeremiah moves closer, tilting his head to the side. "Leave, Ecco. I'll handle him myself." He orders, and the woman is gone in an instant, exiting the room silently without a word. 

Bruce cracks his neck, rolling his shoulder to try and loosen the muscles. Jeremiah watches him like a hawk, eyeing him curiously. "Do you really think you'll lose me?" He asks. "You don't even know me, Bruce. What you know is the shell of a man who's transformed into something greater. I'm stronger now, I don't care about people or feelings. So get. Over. It." The man seethes, face mere inches from the boy's. 

Bruce stands his ground, fists clenched in rage. "That's just what you tell yourself, Jeremiah. But you and I both know we had - no, have something together. You can't fucking deny that!" He snaps, anger boiling inside him. 

Bruce knows there has to be some part of the man that remembers those feelings, those intimate moments shared between the two. To try and ignore that, say it was nothing... It hurts the boy, but angers him as well. He wouldn't accept that this was one sided, that the man didn't care about him in some way. You can't fake that shit. 

"Maybe there was, but that's gone now. I have much bigger needs to attend to, and you're not one of them." Jeremiah said, breath hot against Bruce's face. So close... The boy had to prove himself right. 

He leaned in, closing the small gap between them to press a rough kiss against Jeremiah's lips. Bruce slowly unclenched his fists, bringing his hands up to cup the older man's face, melting into the familiar feeling of the redhead's body and heat. 

Jeremiah was unresponsive at first, tense and unsure. Then he kissed back slightly, hand moving to Bruce's waist to pull him closer. In this moment, the chaos stopped. There was no anger, no insanity, no pain- just them, together in each other's arms. But it was over too fast, Jeremiah pulling back and putting some distance between himself and the boy. 

"I'm sorry, Bruce." The man said breathlessly, recovering from the kiss. He held his gun up slowly and pointed it at the brunette. "Maybe I do care about you.. But I don't have time for feelings." 

Bruce shook his head, whispering quietly to himself, "No!" This wasn't how it ended. He reached a hand out, eyes pleading with the man before him, begging him not to pull that damn trigger. 

"I think I love you," he laughs, then sobs, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. There was no point in lying now, no point in trying to be strong. Jeremiah needed to hear the truth. "And I'm fucking terrified, because I shouldn't. But I do." 

Jeremiah's mouth parts slightly in surprise, caught off guard by the confession. And then there's sorrow in his eyes, and that's good enough for Bruce. At least the man could feel something.

There's sirens coming closer, and Jeremiah curses under his breath. "You won't feel that way for long, believe me. You'll grow to hate me after what I do." He said, pressing the gun against Bruce's forehead. "And when the time comes, you may even try to kill me." 

The boy shakes his head, giving the man an exhausted look. "I don't think that's possible." He said quietly, hand coming up to cover the one holding the gun. "And I don't think you're able to either." 

There's shouts from the other room, and the same clown girl from before rushes in. "They're almost here!" She says, voice laced with panic. Bruce watches as the man tries to make up his mind, fist clenched in frustration. 

And then he sighs, hitting the boy swiftly over the head with the butt of the gun. Bruce gasps, tumbling down and into the man's arms. 

He smiles as he loses consciousness, feeling the warm, solid body carrying him away. 

He was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked this chapter :) I'm not sure exactly how or when I'll end this story, so I'm just going to go along with it and see what I can do with the plot. Just figure it out along the way, I guess. 
> 
> Did you enjoy this chapter? Leave your thoughts and theories below!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied rape, abuse, and incest. 
> 
> ________
> 
> Oof, sorry for the long wait guys, I have bad writers block and it took me a while to finish this chapter, but I hit you like it!

Bruce awakened slowly, eyes blinking open to nothing but black. At first he wonders if it's because the room is dark, but when his brain finally catches up with the rest of his body, he realizes that he's wearing a blindfold. Panic stirs inside him as he tests his wrists, gut clenching when he finds their tied behind his back in what feels like tape. 

The most terrifying thing of all, though, is the silence. There's no one around him, and shouldn't there be? Jeremiah had an army, at least one person had to be keeping guard. Or maybe... 'Maybe he just dropped you off somewhere, left you to rot' his mind whispers, and the thought sends a creeping chill down his spine. 

Bruce shakes his head, trying to think clearly about the situation. Every noise he made echoed off the walls, almost like he was in a cave. Or perhaps underground? He bends back slightly to touch his fingers to the ground, feeling over the rough surface. 

It felt cold and hard, like metal, but Bruce didn't think that's what it was. This... Concrete, definitely. He scooted backward, seeing if he could find anything on the ground. His fingers brushed over what felt like a nail, and he tucked it inside his back pocket carefully in case he might need it later on. 

Anything is a weapon in these situations. 

A noise comes from his side, and he turns his head towards it quickly, body tensing at the soft footsteps that follow after what sounds like a heavy door opening then closing. 

The person stops in front of him, and Bruce immediately knows it's Jeremiah. The smell of citrus and dark cologne wafting through the air as the redhead leans closer to pull the blindfold off the boy, and Bruce has a clear view of the man in front of him. 

He was no longer a redhead. Instead, his hair was dyed a dark shade of green that contrasted against his pale skin, making the white almost blinding to the eye. So Bruce doesn't look at it, instead he looks into the reptilian-like eyes, matching the cold stare there with one of his own. 

"I thought about what you said..." Jeremiah murmured, fingers drumming against his thigh rhythmically. One, two, three. Then again. "And I've decided that maybe there's a chance we could make this, uh, relationship work out." 

Bruce is dumbfounded by the man's words, at first, shocked his idea had gotten through to Jeremiah at all. Had it worked? Had the green-haired 'maniac' finally come to his senses and realized this was all just wrong? 

"But to do that, I'll have to make you a bit more. .. Like me." Jeremiah purred, crouching next to the boy. "All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy, and unfortunately for you... This is your bad day, my dear." 

Bruce feels frozen in place, terrified by the man's words. Of course the lunatic had taken his words and twisted them into his own insane idea. And now, Bruce regrets saying anything at all. "What do you mean, Jeremiah?" He asked quietly, fists clenching behind his back. 

"I mean, maybe all you need is a little push. I can already see that there's something inside of you- something dark and dangerous. You're just too scared to let it out. But don't worry, darling, I can help with that." Jeremiah murmured, smirking as he leaned forward, licking up the shell of the boy's ear slowly. 

Bruce tightened his fists, blunt nails digging into skin as he tried to get a hold of himself. The feeling of the man's warm tongue dragging across his flesh made his gut twist in disgust and arousal, and he flinched away from the touch. 

"Oh, Bruce, I thought you enjoyed that? Is it because of my new appearance, or the new personality?" The man chuckled, biting Bruce's earlobe rather aggressively before pulling away, that same damn smirk on his lips. 

"I don't have anything dark inside me, Jeremiah. I'm not like you, and I never will be." Bruce said, managing to twist around quickly, using the nail he had picked up earlier to stab the man in the arm. Jeremiah hissed in pain, confused and surprised by the boy's attack. And that gave Bruce the perfect opportunity to jump to his feet and make a run for the door. 

He managed to pull it open just enough to squeeze half his small body through, till a cold hand clamped around his bound wrists and stopped him, yanking him back into the room. He fell on the hard floor, groaning as his back hit the concrete. 

"You shouldn't have done that, Bruce. I was gonna give you some time to prepare for the plans ahead, but since you seem so eager to escape, we're going to have to speed things up, eh?" Jeremiah growled, pulling a syringe from his coat pocket. Bruce shook his head vigorously, eyes wide as the man leaned over him, pushing the needle into the flesh of his neck. 

His struggles ceased as the world began to become dark and hazy, his eyes drooping as whatever the man had injected him with started to work it's way through his system, pulling him under into a state of unconsciousness. 

The last thing he heard before he lost himself completely was a laugh, and the last thing he felt was a kiss upon his cheek, soft and quick. 

Then everything went black. 

_______________

The next time Bruce awakens, he's not in the same room. As he slowly sits up, he notices his hands aren't tied together anymore either. He's in a dim-lit hallway, surrounded by TV screens planted across the walls, showing a man tied to a chair. 

On closer inspection, Bruce realizes he recognizes the man. Was that... Alfred? No, no... Jeremiah would never go that far. Would he? 

"Jeremiah! What is this?!" He shouted, voice echoing down through the corridor. A flash of silver caught his eye, and he quickly turned towards it. It was a small dagger, with words carved into the side. He picked it up, brows furrowing as he read out the letters. "Jeremiah. V..." He murmured, turning the blade over in his hand. 

"Yes, it's mine." A voice boomed from above him. "You'll be needing it soon." Bruce looked up, noticing the speakers above the television, where the sound had come from. There were small black cameras next to them as well, aimed right towards him. He stared into the lens, stepping close to the object. 

"Why don't you face me, you coward." He spat out, anger burning inside his gut. This was Jeremiah's plan? Trap him in a room with a fucking dagger and wait for hell knows what to come? 

"We've already spoken, Bruce. And I'm not the one you'll need the dagger for." Jeremiah said. "You'll need it for him." A shadow emerged from the corner of the room, stepping into the light. 

Oh god. Could this get any worse?

There stood Scarecrow, creeping closer to Bruce from across the hall. He instinctively backed up, tightening his grip around the dagger. "Crane helped make a very special toxin, just for you. It's similar to what Jerome gave to me, but it's been modified to give you a little push, not a large one. Baby steps, right? It'll help you accept what's inside of you, what you've been suppressing. Let it out, Bruce." 

Bruce shook his head slowly, mouthing a quiet "no" as the man crept closer to the boy, Jeremiah's words echoing inside his head. It didn't take long for his fight or flight response to kick in, jerking him into action. 

He ran down the hall, not looking behind him to see if Scarecrow was following. It was obvious that he was anyways, heavy footsteps drawing near as Bruce reached the end, stopping at a locked door. 

"No, please!" He pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut as a cold spray of the gas hit his face. The smell made him gag, coughing and falling to the floor. He let the dagger slip from his hand, reaching up to clutch at his head instead, a scream ripping out from inside him.

Soon enough, the effects of the gas started to take hold of him. His head felt too heavy, and his vision was blurred around the edges, distorting the view of Crane. 

He felt terrified, but he also felt... Angry. It wasn't just anger, though. It was pure rage. 'Kill him... It's the only way...' at first he thought the voice was coming from the speakers, but he quickly realized that wasn't the case. It was inside his head, whispering his dark secrets and desires- the ones he had tried so hard to bury. They caused a surge of adrenaline to go through him, zapping him to his feet. 

He sprung at Crane, knife slashing through the air as he let out a battlecry. Scarecrow easily dodged his attack, grabbing the boy's wrist and twisting till the dagger fell from his grip. Bruce hissed in pain, taking a step back to try and put distance between them. "I'm not the one you're going to fight." Crane growled. 

A shrill scream made both the men pause, looking around the room for the source of the noise. Bruce looked at one of the tv screens, realizing the sound had come from... Alfred. Oh no. 

He watched helplessly as one of Jeremiah's goons dragged a blade across the man's chest, shirt torn open to expose the horrendous bleeding cuts made from the dagger. 

The anger inside Bruce died down to a quiet hum as took in the sight, pure terror grabbing hold of him. "No... No! Jeremiah stop this!" He yelled, looking away from the screen to stare into the camera lens. "Let him go!"

A deep chuckle came from the speakers, making Bruce grit his teeth in annoyance. "The Butler lives, only if you kill... Him." A door near the end of the hall opened, a strange man being pushed out of it, then closed immediately. He looked scared and confused, hands tied behind his back. 

"Don't feel so bad for him, darling. If you knew the things he's done... Know what, why don't you tell him, John? Tell him about your children and wife, and what you did." Jeremiah said, voice coming off as a growl near the end. John shook his head, tears streaming down his face. 

"I-I didn't mean to hurt them, I swear! It was the alcohol, it made me different! And B-Betsy looked so much like Marie I didn't know..." He sobbed, and Bruce gagged as the pieces came together in his mind, painting a perfect picture of what the man had done. 

'Control yourself, Bruce. If you kill him, you'll be no better than Jeremiah and the rest of the scum in Gotham' he tried to reason with himself, taking a deep breath. The toxin made it much harder to focus on those thoughts, though, instead the overwhelming urge to drive his dagger into the man again and again burning within him. He barely even noticed that Crane wasn't in the room anymore, having snuck out while the boy was distracted. 

"I love my girls! It was one- well, two mistakes! I won't make them again, I swear." John said, feigning remorse and guilt. Bruce could see right through the man. He didn't mean it. He wasn't sorry. He was begging for his life, just so he could go back and do the same thing again at home. 

Bruce glanced at the TV screens, noticing that the torture had stopped, for now. His heart clenched as he saw Alfred hunched over, groaning in pain. He couldn't allow the man to suffer... But he couldn't kill someone either. 

"You see, Bruce? Some people deserve to die, don't they? You and I both know that John will do it again, has probably done it more times than he cares to admit. You can stop him, though. Stop anymore pain his family has to go through. All you have to do... Is kill him." Jeremiah said, voice soft and comforting to Bruce. It sounded so easy to do, and the man made it seem so simple with his gentle, coaxing words. Don't men like John deserve to die? He shook his head. No, they deserve a life in prison. They deserve to suffer in a cell for the rest of their days. 

Bruce clutched at his head, hands over his ears as he tried to reign himself in from edge. The need to kill was intense, and shook him to the core. A wave of disgust came over him, and he bent over to dry heave. 

"Bruce..." Jeremiah's soft voice came from the speakers, and the boy slowly took his hands down, nervous yet curious to hear what the man had to say next. "It's okay. Think of Alfred, and of me. We can be together, and Alfred will be safe." 

Bruce looked at John, then at the cameras. "Damn you." He said quietly, angry tears escaping from his eyes as he turned back towards the man. He bent down to pick up the dagger, turning it over in his hands as he took in a deep breath. 

'You're not doing this because you want to' he told himself. 'You're doing it because you have to. You don't need to kill him, just injure.' Bruce looked at John, noticing his scared demeanor had fallen away, replaced with something more brutal. 

"I ain't gettin' killed by some pussy!" The man growled, then surged forward, coming at Bruce full speed. The boy stepped to the side to avoid the attack, clutching at the dagger in his hand as he acted on instinct. 

Without a second thought, he ran at the man, closing his eyes as he drove the blade up into John's abdomen. Then again. He couldn't tell if it was the fear or the anger that sunk the blade in a second time, but the action reminded Bruce painfully of Ra's, and he immediately stepped back, daring to open his eyes. 

John's body fell to the ground, jaw hanging open in shock. Blood seeped through his clothes and dribbled down his chin, and Bruce could feel it on his hands as well. His stomach twisted in guilt and disgust, making him gag. He fell to the floor, a small sob escaping him as he tried to rub the blood off on his pants. 

Bruce jumped in surprise as strong arms wrapped around him from behind, gripping him firmly. He turned his head, letting out a growl as he glimpsed green hair and a pale face. 

"Fuck you! Do you know what you've done to me?! I hate you!" He screamed, unable to stop the continued sobs that wracked through him. "I hate you... " 

Jeremiah shushed the boy gently, hiding a smile in Bruce's soft brown hair. "You did good." He murmured as the younger man squirmed in his arms, hitting him as frustrated tears flowed down his face. Jeremiah didn't seem to care, letting the boy take out the built up anger on him without even a flinch at the hard blows. 

"Let Alfred go." Bruce said quietly, sniffling as his sobs started to die down, the weariness making it harder to fight. "And I never want to see you again." Jeremiah loosened his grip on the boy, looking up at the camera in the hall. "Release him." He said, then turned back to Bruce. 

The brunnete was still, unmoving and tense in his arms. "You'll come back to me, Bruce. We're connected, you know? Two sides of the same coin..." Jeremiah murmured into his ear, rubbing the boy's arms reassuringly. "Two threads in the same stitch."

Bruce clenched his fist, twisting around swiftly in the man's arms to smack him on the cheek. "You and I will never be alike." He hissed, delighted at the way Jeremiah's eyes widened slightly at the strike. 

He quickly regretted the decision to hit the man, though, as a low growl escaped from Jeremiah. And then Bruce was being pushed back, mouth attacked by the soft lips of the green-haired maniac. His wet tongue forced it's way inside Bruce's mouth, and the boy let out a groan at the intrusion. 

He didn't kiss back, but he didn't pull away either, letting the man take advantage of him for a few seconds more. A sick feeling of arousal stirred within him, and he quickly pushed Jeremiah off him before his body could react to the contact. 

"Bruce!" Alfred's voice rang out, followed by a set of rushed footsteps sounding in the dark the hallway as the man rushed over. Bruce quickly stood up, running towards Alfred and practically jumping on the man. 

"Oh god, are you okay?!" The boy asked, pulling back slightly when the Butler winced at the tight hug. Bruce surveyed the man's now bandaged torso, worried at the sight of blood seeping through the material. 

"I'm alright, just got a few cuts." Alfred responded. "What happened here?" Bruce looked to where Alfred was staring, bile rising in his throat at the sight of John's dead body. 

A dark chuckle came from behind him, and he turned towards Jeremiah, nearly forgetting the man was there. "Didn't Bruce do a wonderful job?" He said, eyes bright with amusement. 

Alfred gave Bruce a startled look, brows furrowed in confusion and concern. "You did this, Master Bruce?" He asked, a hint of bewilderment in his tone. The boy squirmed uncomfortably under the man's heavy gaze, looking away. 

"I didn't want to but... It was the only way you'd survive." Bruce replied quietly, trying to mask the guilt and sorrow that threatened to show on his face. He quickly schooled his expression, though, holding his head high and giving Alfred an apologetic look that he hoped would tell the man all he needed to know; 'I'm sorry, I'm a monster but I hope you'll still love me.' 

Alfred's face falls at that look, morphing into one of pity. "You did what you needed to, it's alright." A snort sounds from the green-haired man, and Bruce whirls on him, still wielding the dagger. 

Before Alfred can protest, he's pressed the blade under Jeremiah's chin, stopping himself from the urge to make the man bleed. God, he deserves it though. Bruce finds that he can't will himself to hurt Jeremiah though, not when he looks into those eyes. The eyes that used to be so full of worry and joy, and the way he'd look at the boy... They would sparkle. 

Now they shine with danger, pupils blown wide and nearly covering the white of his eyes as he looks down at Bruce. There's a sort of possessiveness in his gaze, and his lips twitch up into an amused smirk. 

"You gonna kill me too, darling?" He drawls out, taking a step closer. The blade digs into his flesh, but the man doesn't seem to mind. This is what he wanted, Bruce realized. He wanted Bruce to hurt him, cause he knew he wouldn't. Knew that the boy still harbored feelings of a somewhat twisted love for Jeremiah. 

"Fuck you," he hissed out through clenched teeth, taking the blade away. It came out more weak then he intended, a whimper instead of a growl. Jeremiah noticed it, of course, smirk widening. 

"Oh, I wish you would." He purred quietly, prompting a blush to crawl up Bruce's face at the suggestive response. The boy shook his head, trying to rid the affect the man's words had on his body. 

"It's over, Jeremiah. The police are already on the way." Bruce said, then turned swiftly away before the man could respond, walking back towards Alfred. He paused, dropping the blood covered dagger to the floor. 

He didn't want or need it, the memories of what he'd done with the blade still burning fresh in his mind. With a shudder, he opened the exit door, glancing over his shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Jeremiah. 

"I'll see you when it all goes 'boom'." The green-haired man said, voice laced with malice. There was something about the sentence that sparked Bruce's curiosity, but he didn't let himself focus on it. He pushed himself to move out the door, digging his nails into the palms of his hands to prevent himself from going right back into the room and demanding what Jeremiah had planned. 

He'd let the GCPD take care of it, the sirens already sounding in the air. As they made their way back home, Alfred didn't speak, not till the police car arrived at the gates of the manor and they were escorted to the entrance. The officer insisted that someone should stay to guard the boy for the time being, but Bruce refused, reassuring the man that they had everything under control. 

The sun had already set, and he could feel the weight of the day lay heavy on his shoulders. Exhausted, he forced himself to eat something, having been starved for the day. Alfred entered the room as the boy's toast popped up from the machine on the counter, signalling his 'meal' was ready. 

He sighed, not bothering with butter as he stuck the bitter tasting food inside his mouth. "Master Bruce, I want you to know that that man is wrong about you. You're not a monster." The older man said, flinching slightly as he leaned against the doorway. 

Bruce barely managed to swallow his food, his mood made it nearly impossible to stomach anything, guilt and dread welling inside him. "I don't know, Alfred. Maybe he's right." He murmured. "How can a human... Love, a monster like that, unless they're a bit of a monster themselves? I-I'm filthy, disgusting." 

He looked down at the toast in his hand, chucking it in the garbage bin angrily. He clenched his fist, shoulders shaking as tears clouded his vision and streamed down his face. 

He felt Alfred's warm arms wrap around his trembling form, holding him tight. The man shushed him gently, cradling Bruce's head to his chest as if he were an infant. 

"It'll be okay, Bruce. I promise." Alfred spoke quietly, fingers threading through the the brunette's hair soothingly. The sobs of the broken boy sounded through the night, and once they died down, Bruce was left with a broken heart and a guilty conscious. 

But he was determined to keep fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, leave your thoughts below ❤ I love reading the comments! You guys are very supportive and kind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotham's fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this so long to upload djdkckck I've been busy with school and shit.

It takes two days for Jeremiah Valeska to escape from police custody, and three days for him to to warn the city of Gotham about the stolen bombs. 

Bruce sees it all play out on the news, reporters stirring everyone into a panic. People were trying to evacuate the city as fast as possible, cars and buses flooding the streets. Bruce stays, though. And so does Selina. 

She hangs around the manor daily, updating Bruce on any new information found on the city streets. None of it sounds good. It only adds to the stress and fear playing in the boy's mind. 

"Maybe I shouldn't tell you this stuff..." Selina says one day, sitting next to Bruce on the couch. "I know you're going through some shit and this just makes it worse. I'd really appreciate it if you opened up to me, though." 

Selina had noticed his change of behavior after everything that went down with Jeremiah, and seemed determined to figure out what was bothering Bruce so much about the man. The anger and fear were obvious, but Bruce knew she saw something more in their relationship. Something the boy wasn't ready to admit out loud. 

"It's complicated, Selina. And don't worry about it, I need the information." Bruce muttered, arms crossed and brows furrowed in concentration as he thought over the 'Jeremiah' situation. 

He had nothing yet on the man, didn't even know where he was. Even if Bruce did, what would he do? He tried to confront Jeremiah before but that didn't go well. His best course of action would be to team up with Jim, but he doubted the cop would let him help on something that dangerous. 

"Well, just know that I'm here for you, okay?" Selina murmured, voice losing the sharp edge it usually carried. She didn't show her soft side a lot, but as time went by and they grew closer together, Bruce began to see it more and more. 

She leaned in close to the boy, hand sliding slowly behind his neck to pull him in for a gentle kiss. Bruce immediately tensed, unsure if he should push her away or kiss back. He didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings... But it just didn't feel right. There was no passion, and no spark. 

But maybe this wouldn't be so bad if he pretended it wasn't her. 

He closed his eyes, hesitantly pressing back against the girl. Her lips were soft, and plump. For some reason that disappointed Bruce. He wanted rough, chapped lips pressed against his own. Wanted the dangerous thrill of kissing a criminal- someone he despised, yet needed. Wanted the passionate, desperate desire to lose himself completely in another person that he hated. 

He wanted Jeremiah. 

"So I leave you alone for a week and this is what I get? Really, Bruce? I didn't take you for a cheater." A familiar voice spoke from across the room, and Bruce pushed Selina off quickly, eyes snapping open to reveal Jeremiah Valeska. In his living room. With a gun. 

"What are you doing here?" He asked, voice quiet and unsteady. Selina stood up beside him, directing a hard glare at the green-haired man. Jeremiah chuckled, taking a step closer, then another. 

"I came to get you. We've got plans." He said, a devious grin breaking out across his face. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looked at Selina, and before Bruce could do something about it, a gunshot echoed in the room. 

Selina crumpled to the floor, eyes wide in shock. She twitched on the ground, hand pressed to the bullet wound to try and stop the blood flow. Bruce dropped down beside her, heart hammering in his chest. "Selina!" He cried out. "I-It's going to be okay, alright?" 

His hands shook as they hovered over the girl's body, unsure of what to do but desperately wanting to help. He looked up at Jeremiah, hands curling into fists as he saw the man smirking down at Selina. 

"Do you think this is funny?!" He snapped, jumping to his feet. Jeremiah tilted his head to the side, taking a step towards the boy and raising the gun till it was pointed under Bruce's chin. 

The brunnete didn't shy away from the touch of cold steel, instead he pressed into it, lips curling back into a snarl as he took a step forward. "Do it." He hissed, reaching a hand up to grab the gun and push it closer. Jeremiah's eyes flashed with surprise and amusement, proud of the boy's confidence. 

"Well aren't you just the brave little soldier, hmm?" Jeremiah hummed, clicking the safety back on and withdrawing the weapon. Bruce let out a small sigh of relief, glancing back at Selina to check how she was doing. She was unconscious, blood soaking her clothes and the carpet. 

"I'm calling the police now." Bruce said, reaching for his phone on the coffee table. Jeremiah's hand whipped through the air in a flash, the barrel of the gun smacking the boy's wrist. Bruce snatched the injured limb back, rubbing the sore skin and glaring at the man. "She's going to die, Jeremiah. I'm not letting that happen."

Jeremiah let out a bark of laughter, grabbing the boy's shirt collar and pulling him forward. Bruce stumbled at the force, falling onto the man. They managed to stay upright, though, Jeremiah holding the boy in place when he tried to pull back. 

"You're coming with me." The man said, stroking the gun up the back of Bruce's neck. He shivered at the cold caress of the weapon, goosebumps rising to the touched skin. 

"N-No, I'm not leaving Selina." He stated stubbornly, holding his head high in defiance. Did Jeremiah think he could just sweep him away whenever he wanted to? If so, he had another thing coming. There was no way he was leaving without a fight. 

"I don't want to hurt you, Bruce. Come on." Jeremiah murmured, voice soft and sweet, and words tempting but false. The man pulled the gun away, replacing it with his cold, gloved hand instead. 

"You and I both know that's not true, you psychopath." He growled, having the strong urge to push Jeremiah's hand off him, but leaving it there instead. There was something about the touch that grounded Bruce, kept him steady- which was funny, considering the man himself made Bruce lose control everytime they were together. All the walls he built up would come crashing down when in the presence of Jeremiah. 

"Darling..." The green-haired man sighed. "If I promised you that your friend is going to be okay, will you come with more willingly?" Bruce was baffled by the words, nearly laughing out loud at the pure idiocy of the arrogant man. 

"Your promises mean nothing to me, Jeremiah. And there's no way in hell I'm going with you." He snorted, finally reaching up to push Jeremiah's hand away. The man reacted quickly to the touch, shaking off the boy's grip so his hand still rested at the side of his face. 

Bruce narrowed his eyes, tilting his head away from the firm carress and rising to the challenge the man's sparkling eyes offered. He grabbed Jeremiah's arm, pulling the limb forward so the man stumbled forward. Before he could regain his balance, Bruce twisted the arm behind the maniac's back, reaching a hand around the older man's body to grip his throat tightly, still holding the limb in place. 

He could feel Jeremiah's Adam's Apple bob as he chuckled, the sound vibrating against the boy's skin. He tightened his hold, anger bursting inside him at the obnoxious noise.   
"You think this is a joke?" He snapped. 

The older man seemed to contemplate the question teasingly, holding his free hand up to tap a finger against his chin, as if pondering. "Hmm, no, not really. It's just so cute when you fight back like that, makes me all tingly inside." He giggled, the sound deep and disturbing to the boy. 

He shook off the feeling, squeezing the hand around the man's throat and leaning over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Selina's still form on the ground, a few feet away from them. Rage and guilt seized him at the sight, causing him to momentarily forget about Jeremiah. The man took hold of the opportunity to escape the boy's hold, slipping from his arms and using the butt of the gun to hit Bruce over the head. 

The sound of metal cracking against his skull made his stomach lurch in fear and disgust. He crumpled to the floor, staring up at the dark figure of the man leaning over him as his vision slowly faded. Before his body completely gave into unconsciousness, he managed to turn his head to the side, meeting Selina's dazed open eyes. 

A small sob escaped him, and he whispered out a small "I'm sorry" before everything went black. 

______________

There was light, then a voice. A voice, so soft... So familiar. "Bruce," it whispered. "Bruce, it's time to wake up." 

He squinted his eyes up at the blinding light, a dark figure outlined by the brightness. Then, with a click, the light was off. 

Now there was just Jeremiah.

He lurched up, groaning at the sharp pain that accompanied the fast movement. It felt like the room was spinning, and he shook his head to try and get rid of the feeling. It didn't work. What did work, though, was Jeremiah's hand. It settled on his shoulder, grounding him to reality. 

"G-Get away from me." Bruce slurred, attempting to stand up. He nearly fell over when the pain and dizziness came back full force from the action, and the hand on his shoulder squeezed harder. 

"Bruce... Darling... Lean on me." Jeremiah's gentle voice coaxed him, and then he was pulled forward by the hand, the man's arm wrapping around his waist to support him. 

"I don't need you." He snapped. "I shouldn't even be here. I should be back at the manor, with Selina... Oh god, Selina. If she's dead because of you..."

Jeremiah chuckled, leading him out of the dark room and into a spacious... Living room? Bruce wasn't sure what it was. There were floor to ceiling windows spread across one end, leaving a beautiful view of the city below. 

"Bruce, I assure you your friend is alive. Although... She may never walk again." He laughed, the sound high and obnoxious. A burst of anger ignited inside him, giving him enough strength to push the man away. 

"You sick fuck... Selina doesn't deserve that! She's been through enough, and if she's unable to walk... She'll never survive on the streets." He seethed, legs wobbling slightly as he came closer to Jeremiah, leaning up into his personal space. 

"I will destroy you for what you've done." His voice was steady and firm, holding a promise he intended to keep. This man... This wicked, sick man. He ruined everything. 

"That sounds fun." Jeremiah murmured, smirking down at the boy. "I'd like to see you try, my dear." Bruce snarled, grabbing the front of the man's shirt roughly and twisting his fists into the fabric. 

They were so close... But Bruce didn't have anything other than anger on his mind. And sadness, god awful sadness that tore at his heart, ripping it to shreds. 

"Why?" He choked out. "Why are you like this?" Jeremiah's smirk grew wider, but he had a certain tired look about him, shoulders slumped and bags hanging under his eyes. And those eyes... They were so dull. Not like the bright ones Bruce knew of, the ones that shined with mischief and danger. 

"Because," he responded. "It's who I am. Who I'm meant to be. There's no point in trying to hide it, like you do. All the secrets weigh you down, hold you back from the true potential you keep locked away." 

Jeremiah's face came closer, nose brushing against the boy's cheek. Bruce closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and trying to keep the tears at bay. He should feel disgusted, but instead... He yearned for Jeremiah's touch, for his soft lips to press against his till they were both out of breath.

He wanted cuddles on lazy mornings, and the gentle laughter of the man he used to know. He wanted to go back, but knew he had to move forward. That the present and future would never be the same. 

"You don't have to be like this," He whispered. "You can be better- do better. The potential you were holding back doesn't have to be bad. You can use it for good." Jeremiah's nose traced down his face to his neck, where he nuzzled into the flesh, pressing a soft kiss against it. 

"No," He said, voice hollow and almost... Sad. "I can't." Bruce wrapped his arms around the man, tucking his chin on top of his green head of hair. It was stiff from hair gel, but that didn't matter much to the boy, because it still smelled of citrus and roses. And the scent still managed to calm him down, like before. It was a sad reminder of their past, but it was peaceful nonetheless. 

It made him think... That maybe-just maybe- they could pretend, at this very moment, that everything was the same as it used to be. No death. No bombs. No tragedy. No pain. Just puppy love, and nothing more. 

Jeremiah says something, but the words are muffled against his neck. "Hmm? What was that?" Bruce asked gently, shivering at the man's warm breath against his flesh, face pressed into his skin. 

"I said..." Jeremiah pulled back, and Bruce opened his eyes to meet the man's warm gaze. He still had his arms wrapped around the boy's waist, holding him close. "I love you." 

Bruce was stunned, certainly not expecting the sudden confession. Of course, he already knew Jeremiah's feelings for him were intense, obsessive and possessive. Were they really love, though?

And if they were... Did he love the man back? 

A strange sense of deja vu overcame him, reminding him of the same confession he made a few weeks before. He did love him. But he couldn't admit it again. Not after everything. If he said it back now... Jeremiah would never stop. 

"What is left in you to love?" He said instead, pulling back from the intimate embrace and turning away from the man. It hurt him to say those words, and he couldn't bare to see the look on Jeremiah's face when they left his lips. 

They stood there in silence, neither daring to say a word. The atmosphere between them was tense, making Bruce nervous. After a few minutes had passed, he was ready to speak up. Before he could, though, the sound of footsteps cracking against tile made their way towards the pair. 

His head snapped up, eyes widening in surprise and fright at the sight of Ra's Al Ghul. Him, Barbara, Tabitha, and Selina had tried to kill the man a few weeks back but had failed, ending in him getting the Demon's Head back. Knowing that he now had his powers... It made everything much more complicated and dangerous. 

"Well, sorry to break up the bittersweet moment between you two love birds, but we're going to miss the show!" Ra's clapped his hands, a bright smile lighting up his face. Glee and madness danced in his eyes as he looked past Bruce to the windows behind him. "Gotham's destruction." The man laughed. 

He turned to see the view of the city, lights sparkling and chaos in the streets. It was home. "You..." Bruce looked back at the man. "You're insane. Both of you." 

"Maybe. But I had a vision, Bruce. A vision of you, rising from the ashes of Gotham to become the Dark Knight this city needs." Ra's said, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. 

Jeremiah grinned, mimicking Ra's by putting his hand on Bruce's other shoulder. He leaned in close, whispering in the boy's ear, "About earlier..." He said. "It's alright. You don't have to say it back, I know you're scared. I know you didn't mean what you said." 

Bruce clenched his fist, shrugging off both of the men's hands and turning to Jeremiah. "You dont know anything. You don't know me, and you don't know how I feel." He said, breathing in deeply through his nose, then exhaling slowly through his mouth. It helped calm him down, and helped prevent him from acting out. 

"Oh?" Jeremiah said, a dangerous grin breaking out onto his face. "Are you saying we're not connected in the slightest? That you don't feel anything at all when I touch you- when I kiss you?" Bruce studied the man, taking note of the obvious anger he displayed. It might be hard to tell for others, but the brunnete could see it perfectly. 

The slight twitch of his lips, and the tensing of his shoulders stood out to the boy. He wanted to laugh at the rage, spit in the face of this monster. How did one person have the power to completely change someone's life? Ruin everything that was so carefully built and constructed? Then he had the decency to accuse Bruce of being in love, and get angry when he refused to admit it. 

"I don't feel anything, Jeremiah." Bruce said, dragging the words out with the knowledge it would hurt the man even more, set him off. And that's what he wanted. He wanted for Jeremiah to snap- to hurt him, so he could do it back. 

He took a step closer, then another, till they were standing toe to toe. He had to tilt his head back to look into the man's eyes, and although he was short, his height didn't affect the confidence he displayed. 

"You are nothing to me." Bruce hissed quietly, smirking up at the man. "In fact, you d-" His sentence was cut off by the press of firm lips against his, leaving him in pure shock.

This was not what he was expecting at all. A punch? Yes. A kiss? Hell no. This wasn't just a kiss, though. This was a trap. Jeremiah expected Bruce to respond, so he'd be able to say he was right along. To prove to the brunnete that he did care. That he did love him back. 

Jeremiah was right, though, the boy realized. No matter how much he denied having any feelings for the man, the way Jeremiah kissed him was electric. It made butterflies swarm in his stomach- no, they were more like bats. A rampage of them, filling him up to the brim. They were love, and fear. Fear of love. 

He kissed back. 

Bruce could feel Jeremiah's smirk against his lips as he reciprocated the act, arms reaching up to wrap around the man's shoulders. He nibbled at his bottom lip, tugging it roughly as a way of saying 'fuck you'. Just so he could show that he didn't forgive the man. Not one bit. And that he was still angry about everything that happened. Of course the bastard liked it, though. 

 

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him pull back, and he blushed as he remembered they weren't alone in the room. Ra's stood there awkwardly, raising an eyebrow at them. 

"Really?" He said, looking exasperated. "Kids these days..." Bruce rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jeremiah. The man had blood dribbling down his chin from the tear in his lip, and Bruce had to look away when his tongue darted out to swipe the stain away. 

Jeremiah flashed him a wide grin, giving him a wink. Bruce rolled his eyes, unable to fight the heat that crept up his face. Neither of the three said anything- that is, until it all went down. 

A loud explosion went off, making the boy snap his head up at the sound. He neared the windows, pressing his hands against them as he look down at the fire and chaos below. 

And then he remembered. Remembered that this is why he couldn't be with Jeremiah. He had been struggling with his feelings, but in the end had just given in. There was no care left. This was definitely an eye opener, though. 

He whipped around, approaching Jeremiah furiously. "Remember that just because I love you doesn't mean I don't have other feelings for you as well," he said, voice low and dangerous. "I hate you, too. So much. And God, the disappointment and anger I feel just at the very sight of you? It's unbelievable. You're a monster, Jeremiah. A sick, twisted man. Just like your brother, but worse." 

He could tell the words affected Jeremiah greatly, even though the man tried to hide it. The villain opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of a door breaking down.

And then the guns started to fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all likee this! Sorry if it seems a bit rushed :/ I've had bad writer block. 
> 
> Let me know what you think down below!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events unfold, and time passes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit I'm so sorry this took so long! I kept having to rewatch some scenes but that was too difficult since they were on laggy webstes so the I had to wait till the season came on Netflix to finish. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the final chapter! If you're still a fan of this, that is :')

Everything seemed to happen at once. First, there was Barbara. Then Oswald, Tabitha, Alfred- all barging into the room after her talk with Ra's had finished. 

Gunshots were fired, the sound causing Bruce's stomach to sink. He felt Jeremiah's hand on his shoulder, steering him out of the way of the bullets and people. For a moment, the hand was gone. He caught a glimpse of Jeremiah hovering over Tabitha, knife to her throat a few feet away. 

He turned from the scene when Jeremiah jerked back, bullet flying through his shoulder. Bruce swallowed thickly, focusing his attention on Ra's. He swung a few punches but missed, falling back as his breath came out in short pants. 

Suddenly, Barbara was there, wrapping his hands around the dagger in her hands. "What are you doing?" He asked, confusion evident in his voice. Instead of answering, she just smirked, tugging him towards Ra's. 

Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, Barbara had already guided the dagger into Ra's' chest, making the man stumble back with a look of surprise. 

Almost immediately, the sick feeling in his stomach grew, bile rising to the back of his throat as the man staggered forward. 

"Well done, Barbara." Ra's croaked out, a defeated yet confident smile twisting his lips. Bruce glanced at Barbara, a feeling of disgust mixing in with the guilt and shame in his gut. The woman had a dark grin on her face, seemingly pleased with the dagger in the man's chest. 

The moment was interrupted when they heard a loud explosion sound from outside, heads snapping to the large windows. Outside was a perfect view of a Gotham bridge crumbling down, falling into the water underneath as smoke and fire billowed around the area. 

They all went silent, weapons lowered and a look of shock on each of their faces as the lights of the city flickered off. Bruce was pulled from the scene abruptly by Ra's grabbing his shoulders and falling to his knees, dragging Bruce with him as his face started to break, a sea of golden red flowing through the cracks. Bruce cringed at the scene, but stayed still in fright. 

"The choice is now yours. Stay Bruce Wayne. Or accept your destiny. Become Gotham's Dark Knight." The man's voice grew deeper near the end, lips and body turning into a burst of flames, then ashes. 

Bruce watched in astonishment, blinking as the particles of the man floated away in the air. He lingered there for a moment till the man had disappeared completely, then glanced out the window again, clenching his jaw. His mind was racing, and the destruction and death around him was almost unbearable. Seeing Ra's die again didn't hurt him as much as last time, though. It was nothing compared to the other events of the day. 

And the fact that Jeremiah had escaped while all this was happening? Well, he couldn't think of that now. He'd completely lose it, then. But he did know he'd have to hunt the man. He'd do whatever it takes to save Gotham, and make Jeremiah pay for the destruction and loss. 

Ra's made him make a decision with his final words, and Bruce chose to stay. 

 

\- ----- 10 months later ------

 

Bruce was doing a nightly patrol of the city, quietly making his way from rooftop to rooftop. It had become a routine of his to do this- always making sure to scan the streets thoroughly, looking for any sign of danger. 

He came to a stop on the ledge of a bakery roof, squatting down to make himself less noticeable as he tilted his head, listening to a pair of nearby footsteps that echoed into a dark alley below. 

Bruce quietly made his way down a metal ladder, hopping to the floor and stealthily following the sound of the clacking shoes. No one ever came down this alley in the dark unless they had bad intentions. Usually, though, there was more than just one person. 

He tried not to dwell on that fact as he pressed himself against the alley wall, attempting to blend in with the shadows as the footsteps came to an abrupt halt. 

He watched as the dark figure opened a door near the end of the alley, then disappeared into the opening, a click sounding as the door slid shut behind the person. 

Bruce cursed quietly, making his way over to the entrance hurriedly and looking over the door for any signs of a lock. Thankfully, there were none. This only raised Bruce's suspicion, though. Maybe it wasn't something bad? Surely they'd keep a lock on the door if the place was used for anything illegal. 

Bruce took in a deep breath, pushing down the questions in his mind as he opened the door as quietly as he could, slipping inside a dark room. 

As soon as he stepped in, a lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling lit up, illuminating a small portion of the room. There was a wooden chair underneath the light, and what looked to be a woman tied to it, head hung down with long strands of hair hiding her face. 

Bruce rushed to the woman, pushing the hair out of her face and lifting her head up carefully as his other hand went to her wrist, checking for a pulse. As he stared into her cold, grey eyes, though, he knew she was already gone. 

His eyes scanned over her face, a wave of disgust and fear washing over him as he saw a carved in grin spread across it, dry blood coating her lips and clothes. He stepped back immediately, scanning the room carefully. 

There were playing cards scattered around the chair, and Bruce spotted one attached to the woman's hand. He bent down to get a closer look, cringing at the sight of a staple stabbed through the card into her skin, keeping it in place. He wiped some of the blood off the card, freezing at the sight of a 'J' in the corner of it, and a half clean Joker's face. 

Bruce staggered back, turning around the room in a circle to check he was safe. Clearly someone already knew he was there, but was waiting. What for? Bruce didn't know. They wanted him to see this- to let it sink in. 

 

This wasn't the first murder like this, though. Bruce had seen three more around Gotham, all in random spots. But there usually weren't any playing cards involved- just the eery, carved in smile. 

He was never there in time to save anyone, let alone see who did it, but this could finally be the day he had a chance. 

"Come out!" He shouted, clenching his fists as he let the anger seep into him, giving him the energy he'd need for a fight. "Show yourself!" 

 

The sound of a dark chuckle came from a corner of the room, and Bruce's head snapped to the noise. A man stepped partially into the light, head bent down with a wide hat covering his face. It looked familiar to Bruce, and suppressed memories tickled the back of his mind as he realized who he'd seen it on last. 

 

"No..." He whispered, backing away as the man lifted his head, exposing a pale, grinning face. It was Jeremiah - of course it was Jeremiah, who else had a sick enough mind to pull something like this? 

"Hello, Bruce." Jeremiah said, voice as calm as ever. The man took a few steps forward, drawing closer to Bruce. The boy swallowed thickly underneath Jeremiah's scrutinizing gaze, fighting the urge to run away. 

No, he wanted this. He'd been trying to hunt down Jeremiah for months with no luck. After a while he'd given up- maybe the man knew that. Maybe that's why he decided to meet with Bruce now. 

"Bruce... I'd recognize those eyes anywhere. You were never the best at hiding yourself. Well, at least not from me." Jeremiah chuckled, leaning forward into Bruce's personal space. He tensed immediately, ready to push the man away. For some reason, he didn't. 

He felt the brush of Jeremiah's nose against his throat, then something cold and sharp replaced it. A knife. God, Bruce was an idiot. 

"You still smell the same as well." Jeremiah sighed, licking his lips. Bruce's eyes followed the movement, noticing the red tint to the man's skin. It was lipstick. 

Jeremiah seemed to notice what he was thinking, and leaned close once more, pressing a kiss to Bruce's cheek with a smack of his lips, knife tugging at the skin of the boy's throat. 

Bruce hissed in pain and anger, pushing Jeremiah away and scrubbing at his cheek with his gloved hand as he shot the man a glare. 

"I love the outfit, Bruce. Too bad it covers up all that beautiful, olive skin of yours..." Jeremiah said with a frown, trying to get back into Bruce's space. The boy didn't allow it this time, instead grabbing hold of Jeremiah's wrist, twisting it roughly till the knife fell from his grasp. 

He bent down quickly to pick it up, but crashed to the ground when Jeremiah's foot collided with his ribs. He let out a groan, ignoring the pain and reaching for the knife once more. He wasn't fast enough, though, Jeremiah's hand swiping it up before he could get a hold on the handle. 

Bruce struggled to get to his feet, but the man's foot pushed his chest down, causing the boy's head to smack painfully against the hardwood floor. Before he had time to roll away, Jeremiah was hovering above him on all fours, pressing the knife to Bruce's throat again. The boy stilled immediately, catching Jeremiah's wild eyes with his own. They were filled with amusement, and something else Bruce couldn't quite place. 

"Why are you doing this?" Bruce murmured quietly. It was always the first question he'd ask when he saw the man. He never could get a real answer though- or, at least, not a truthful one. 

Jeremiah let out an exaggerated sigh, blade digging into Bruce's skin harder. The boy felt the wet feeling of blood slither down his neck, and started to regret asking the question. It was just a small cut, but Jeremiah was unstable. It was impossible to tell what he'd do, or what set him off. 

"Oh, Bruce. Does there need to be a reason?" He asked, tilting his head to the side as his expression turned blank. "Well, now it's my turn to ask you a question. Why is it that everytime we meet you have to keep asking such stupid things? Why can't we forget about the past, and just fight." He snapped. 

Bruce blinked up at the man, catching the glint of anger in his eyes. Jeremiah usually wasn't so... Open, about things like that. It must really bother him, then, Bruce decided. 

"Because the past makes us who we are, Jeremiah. So why did yours make you into this?" He replied calmly, watching as the man clenched his jaw, eyes darting away from the boy's face. 

"Do you remember, Bruce?" He asked. "Remember what I said?" Jeremiah focused his gaze back on Bruce, and the boy tensed underneath it, shifting uncomfortably below the man. 

Jeremiah leaned forward, dragging the blade softly from Bruce's throat to the corner of his mouth, sending the boy's heart into a frenzy of panic. He felt the man's lips brush against his ear, shivering at the words he spoke next. 

"All it takes is one bad day." Jeremiah whispered, pushing the blade into the corner of Bruce's mouth hard enough for the boy to feel a sting of pain, then the copper taste of blood on his tongue. 

He pushed Jeremiah away, switching their positions as he drove his fist into the man's face, anger and sadness boiling inside him. Jeremiah laughed as Bruce sent one punch in after the other, a scream ripping through him. It sounded more like a sob to his ears, but he couldn't let himself believe that. 

"That's what I'm talking about! Hit me like you mean it, Bruce, c'mon." Jeremiah laughed, blood and spit coating the skin around his mouth. Bruce growled, sending one more punch to the man's face before he stopped, body shaking as he panted for air. 

"As much as I love these little fights of ours, Bruce... I must be off. Catch me again later?" Jeremiah said with a wink. Bruce stared down at him in confusion, before he felt a sharp, hot pain in his side. He staggered back, looking down to see that the knife had been plugged into him, blood gushing from the wound. 

He fell to the floor, glancing up at Jeremiah as the man stood from the floor, taking a step closer to Bruce and leaning down. "Get well soon. We'll meet again, I promise." The man murmured, pressing a far too soft kiss to Bruce's lips. 

The boy watched as Jeremiah stood back up, walking to the door. He opened it up, then looked back at Bruce. "And Bruce? Next time, try harder. I need a challenge." And then he was gone, and Bruce was left alone with his thoughts. 

What the fuck was that? He'd been searching for the man in every street corner and alley, and then this happened? No, no, this wasn't how it was supposed to go... Fuck. 

Bruce hissed in pain as he pulled the knife from his side, staggering to his feet. He felt like he needed to do something, but already knew it was too late. Jeremiah was gone. He didn't know when they'd meet again, but he did know he'd definitely need to be more prepared next time. 

He was determined to catch Jeremiah - determined to make the city safer. To make it better. He was a hero, and he couldn't have whatever left over feelings he had for Jeremiah determine how he acted. 

The man was right, they should move on from the past. Bruce wasn't sure he'd be able to completely, though. There'd always be those nagging thoughts in the back of his mind, flashes of memories that he wished he was able to forget, but knew deep down, he didn't want to. 

He'd just have to deal with it, he supposed. He knew Jeremiah would take advantage of their past, and of the feelings and moments shared between them, but he needed to be strong. 

He pressed the bloody pads of his fingers to his lips, closing his eyes as they tingled under the pressure, vivid memory from minutes before flooding his mind. A small chuckle escaped him, and he thought to himself... Maybe he could be strong, and still have fun. 

Or maybe that was just Jeremiah rubbing off on him. Well, at least that's what he'd have to tell himself. 

Batman didn't have time for fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit short y'all, sorry. I just wanted to finish the story. It's been a fun ride!
> 
> Obviously Bruce and Jeremiah are at the Joker/Batman point of their relationship, which means their future will still be a lot of hate and love.


End file.
